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146 Bess of Hardwick was dismounting, meantime, finding it the pleasure of Mary of Scotland to see the archery. There was a fine level space at the foot of the Tor; and a group of ash and birch-trees, affording shade at a point which overlooked the butts. It was not possible, by that year, to see good archery in every county of England. Notwithstanding Queen Bess’s admiration of the bow, it was quite out of fashion; and she was wont to say that she and archery should go out of the world together. In old-fashioned districts of the kingdom, however, cross-bow practice was still sustained; and there were rivalries of parishes and families which could not be allowed to expire for a generation or two. When proclamation was now made for the archers to appear, not only did several yeomen come forward, but some half-dozen gentlemen, to challenge a judgment of their skill. Her Grace of Scotland was seated on cushions under the shade, with her ladies behind her, and the Countess stationed by her side. The latter overheard, as she approached, the submissive speeches of Felton and his friend, who were kneeling beside the queen. They could not say that they were not bowmen, in the sense in which country gentlemen still were: and, if her Grace desired it, they would try their skill. They would challenge the Countess, if it might be permitted. They had no doubt of her ability to shoot with anybody present.

The Countess never refused her sanction to active sports, for man or woman. Her own chief bowman had foreseen the occasion, and had brought her bow, her gauntlet, and all that she needed; and when she appeared at the station opposite the butts, a loud cheer went up from the great crowd for Bess of Hardwick. Many said that there was not a stronger arm, nor a truer aim among the archers of all England.

Eager as she appeared, and really was, in watching the shots, she observed all that passed round the Queen’s rural throne. She believed there was opportunity for more than whispers,—even for an exchange of letters, amidst the jestings, and offerings of fruit, and of trifles from the market. She was considering how best to be in two places at once, or to employ Gadbury, when she saw, among the yeomen in homespun on the green, the man for whom she was specially watching. After satisfying herself that this was the Duke of Norfolk, or a magical likeness of him, she beckoned Gadbury, and sent him to make an inquiry of this very man about the butts: and when she observed that, after answering the question, he drew back, and mingled with the crowd, she proclaimed that she was about to use her woman’s privilege of selecting her adversaries, and summoned him as one of the four archers who should compete with her for the great cheese, which was to be the prize of success.

The yeoman advanced, with repeated obeisances to the Countess, after the manner of country fellows. The Lady Bess glanced at the group under the tree, and saw the flush which overspread the cheek of her royal guest at the moment when the competitors took their places. Once more she singled out the yeoman, and observed to him that it was but courteous to invite her Grace to a share in the sport.

“Carry my compliments to her Grace,” said she, “and say that it will be a crowning honour to the sports of the day if she will let fly a bolt, like the rest of us.”

“Too great an honour, surely,” was the reply.

“If you knew her Grace, you would not think so,” said the Countess. “She is full ready at times to join in lower sports than this. I have seen her, not only at bowls in the alley, but dancing in the hall;—dancing with the first who had courage to ask her. Go, and give her my message.”

“Let some worthier messenger carry it. I am too humble, my lady.”

“You are the fittest, because I doubt whether there is another yeoman on the ground whose speech she would understand. You must have been brought up outside of Derbyshire; for you have not the country speech which, in another, would be to her like a foreign tongue.”

This remark dispatched him on his errand. The Countess turned to Gadbury, laughing, and said she had never seen his eyes so far out of his head; and his countenance was full of astonishment when he replied that he had never seen such a likeness in his life.

“Study him, and tell me whether it be only a likeness,” said the Countess. “Is that clumsiness, that sheepish air, real, do you think? or rather the air, (see now!) with which he approaches her Grace? Does a yeoman attain such a bearing in a moment, on merely facing royalty?”

“A courtly air indeed!” exclaimed Gadbury. “His mask, if it be a mask—”

“No doubt of that, Gadbury.”

“His mask falls at her glance.”

“It is either flattery or rank imprudence,” the Countess observed. “See how her Grace bends to him as he kneels, and frowns! She frowns on his rashness; but how plain is the smile underneath it!”

“But what brings the Duke of Norfolk here in that guise?” asked Gadbury.

“Wooers are full of strange devices,” said the Countess.

“But, after all the sanction given to her Grace wedding an English nobleman,” observed Gadbury; “after our queen’s own proposal of the Earl of Leicester—”

“The Earl of Leicester is not the Duke of Norfolk. That is one thing; and another is that Queen Bess may not be so ready as she was a year ago to further any marriage of her kinswoman. It is said that Bothwell is ascertained to be still living; and he may be produced if any one of her Grace’s flirtations should go too far. Look at them now!”

“They are a noble pair!” exclaimed Gadbury.

“But slow in giving and receiving a message,” said the Countess. “I believe I must send another of her Grace’s lovers to fetch her reply. There is Felton—No, there is no need. Our highbred yeoman is returning. You see how his rustic manner grows upon him as he retires from Queen Mary to poor Bess of Hardwick!”